The Conquest
by DabbleDabble
Summary: SPOILERS: SEASON 7 EPISODE 3 ONWARDS...Jon and Daenerys are forced to work together as their goals become one, to save the kingdom from destruction. As they spend more time together, they discover their fates maybe more entwined than either had anticipated. The dance of fire and ice begins. Daenerys/Jon
1. Chapter 1

The Conquest

Mounds of green stood tall, surrounding the impressive fortress at the top of the snaking path. In all his years, Jon had never seen a place like this where green and gold met with such beauty. The lush greenery seemed to pour down from the hills in a rush to meet with the warm, soft sands of the shores. He watched his men, or, perhaps it was more accurate to refer to them as Daenerys' men mine the dragon glass from beneath the mounds of land. He had noticed a seriousness befall the place since the dawn. He assumed it had something to do with the Queen's attack on Casterly Rock.  
Jon let his feet lead the way as he watched swathes of the Unsullied rush to and forth. War was afoot to say the least. 

"I wouldn't if I were you." Davos' voice warned, it was only then that Jon realised his steps had led him to a small door at the side of the fortress. He believed it led to the baths. Sir Davos was slumped on a rock to the left of the door.

"We're not prisoners." Jon shrugged.  
"We will be if we pry."  
Jon frowned, he was not prying. If anything he was just taking a stroll around the grounds.  
"Has there been any word from Sansa?"

Sir Davos shook his head. The news intensified a slow growing sense of dread which slithered through Jon's veins. He had left his sister with Littlefinger. The thought of the man made him squirm with repulsion. 

Jon pushed open the side door to the baths. The door let out a resonating groan. Jon stepped into the cool baths and was immediately met by the vision of Danaerys in the baths. She seemed unbothered by the intrusion, her army however jabbed their spears into Jon's face. Jon's cheeks reddened. He turned away.

"Forgive me, Queen."

He kept his gaze low, unaware the Mother of Dragons was eyeing his chivalry with bemusement. Any other man would have looked much longer. She held up a hand and her guards lowered their spears. Jon stepped back outside, the cool breeze soothed his burning cheeks.

Davos chuckled.  
"I tried to warn you."  
Jon threw him a silencing glare.  
"Are you blushing?" Davos teased, Jon scowled at Davos. Angry at himself for being so transparent, but angrier at Davos for taunting him. The door groaned open for a second time.  
"You could have said some thing!" Jon scolded Davos in a hushed voice.  
"I did!" Davos smirked. "She's unmarried, if you were wondering."  
"I wasn't." Jon bit back.  
"Charming." Daenerys's voice chimed with a hint of amusement. Mustering his courage, Jon turned on his heel to face her. She stood before him with wet blond locks, and long a navy gown that made her blue marble-like eyes seem like an endless sea.

Jon tore his eyes away from her and settled them on the ground. He had never, in a million years thought the Mother of Dragons would be a beautiful woman like her. Nor had he imagined her to be as smart as she was.  
"Walk with me." Daenerys said as she strolled along the path. Jon watched her lead the way. "I wasn't asking."  
He didn't notice the small smile on her lips, nor did he notice the silent curiosity she regarded him with. He was too busy staring at his boots. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, in fact, he hadn't felt anything but anger in a long time.

"Queen, I regard you with the utmost respect. Again I request you forgive me."  
"Will you bend at the knee?"  
"Then I much prefer this be settled by getting even rather than forgiven."  
Jon's mouth hung open for a beat before he realised she was playing with him.  
"For a King you're quick to blush."  
"I'm not blushing…" Jon objected, "I'm warm here. It's warm." He asserted as they walked along the path. He glanced at her, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Jon returned his gaze to the ground as they paced.  
"You received some bad news?" Jon asked, tentative not to over step.  
Daenerys remained stoic, refusing to give anything away.  
"How many men did you lose?"  
"Enough." She answered.  
"There you are!" Tyrion's voice shot from the top of the path. Jon looked up to see the only Lannister he could tolerate bounding toward them. He noticed Daenerys grow rigid. Something had gone wrong with their plans to take Casterly Rock.  
Tyrion paused then narrowed his eyes at Jon then looked at Daenerys.  
"You're returning from the baths."  
Neither Jon or Daenerys addressed the sentence.  
"I was just—"  
"—Sightseeing." Daenerys finished for him. Tyrion gave Jon a curious look, sensing something awry but he knew his place and it wasn't to ask. Not just yet.  
"Hmm. What did you think?" Tyrion asked turning to the dipping valleys around them flowing with lush greens. Daenerys fought back a smile as a deep red bloomed across Jon's cheeks.  
"Men from all across the kingdom bow down to its astonishing beauty." Tyrion explained as he eyed the coast.  
"I can see why." Jon said.  
"Could you excuse us?" Tyrion asked Jon. Daenerys looked to Jon.  
"He can stay if he wishes."

Jon remained silent for the discussion and allowed Tyrion to suggest his schemes and watched Daenerys bat them down. They were blindsided by an attack on Braavos in which the Lannisters had seized Highgarden. Daenerys discussed the entire matter with an air of disdain, it wasn't until Tyrion mentioned the fatal poisoning of Olenna Tyrell that Daenerys looked concerned.  
"She was a good woman. Strong. May she rest in peace." Tyrion sighed with a mournful expression.  
"You are my hand, Tyrion. I would hate to think you are blinded by your hatred of Cersei to such an extent that it is influencing your ability to advise."  
"My Queen, no matter how well I know my sister, I did not foresee this. For that, I ask for your forgiveness."

The Mother of Dragons scoffed and looked at both men. "Why do men always err then ask for forgiveness? Why not err in the first place?"  
Tyrion and Jon both opened their mouths to answer, but Daenerys didn't wait for their response. She continued, her frustration simmered as she spoke.  
"We lost an ally and an army. The same ally who told me not to have mercy."  
Tyrion frowned as he realised what troubled his Queen.  
"This isn't your fault—"  
"It is. We should have foreseen this. If you'll excuse me, I'd quite like to be alone."  
Tyrion nodded his head and stepped back. He gave Jon a pointed look. Jon bowed his head and joined Tyrion in watching the Queen walk away.  
"She's mad at me." Tyrion winced.  
"No she isn't. She mourns for Lady Tyrell."  
"And her lost army."  
Jon looked at Tyrion, Tyrion shrugged.  
"Jon Snow, if you're fooled by those pretty eyes and that beauty, then you know nothing." Jon furrowed his brow at Tyrion. "My Queen is a lot more than looks. She's got the heart of a warrior, and the mind of one. Believe me when I tell you, she mourns more for the defeat in warfare than for the loss of Lady Tyrell."  
Jon bit his tongue. Tyrion was her hand afterall, he knew her better than Jon did.  
"I should get back to mining."  
"Yes, go mine for your mythological weapon against the mythological evil while my Queen and I try to salvage our defeat against a very real evil."  
"Your ill-planning is not my problem." Jon declared. Tyrion rolled his eyes.  
"I need a drink. Maybe four." The Lannister muttered and walked away.

Jon stepped out of the bath and pulled on a robe.  
"So it's true." Daenerys said. Jon spun round to face her. He hadn't noticed the intrusion, nor did he welcome it.  
"You took a dagger to the heart."  
She stepped closer to him, eyeing his scar with the interest of a child with a toy. Jon stepped back.  
"My condolences for Lady Tyrell."  
Daenerys's eyes snapped from the scar on Jon's chest to his warm brown eyes. Her eyes searched his for something. There was an edge to them, something just beyond his grasp, she had a fire in them.  
"Tyrion said you're more upset about losing her army."  
"And you want to know if it's true." She studied him. Water dripped from his chin, he brushed it aside and held her gaze. She circled him slowly and tilted her head at him. The pair seemed lock in a battle of wits, trying to learn each other as one learns a dance.  
"What do you think?" She asked.  
"I think Lady Tyrell struck a nerve with you, and you mourn her. Outside of that, all is fair in love and war."  
"'You're a dragon. Be a dragon'." Daenerys repeated Lady Olenna Tryell's words to Jon, he wore a grave expression on his face.  
"I decided not to be a dragon, and it got her killed."  
Jon nodded. "And if you had, you would be as bad as Cersei, or worse. People would bend at the knee from fear, not love."  
Daenerys looked at him, with surprise.

"Love?"  
"I've seen how the people here regard you. Love, respect, admiration and honour." Jon said.  
"You're trying to make me feel better. I appreciate it, but I don't feel much anymore, Jon Snow."  
Jon smiled dryly.  
"You're not alone when it comes to that."  
There was something about his wording that struck a chord with her. She was beginning to grow fond of Jon Snow.  
"Good night, Jon Snow."  
"Good night, Queen."  
"-Daenerys." She said. Jon nodded politely. She looked him up and down.  
"Oh and Jon? Now we're even." She gave him a mischievous smile and walked out of the bath. Jon felt a bemused smile spread across his lips as a familiar blush crept across his cheeks. He shook his head as he gathered his clothes and headed up to his chambers.  
The King of the North and the Mother of Dragons? He scoffed, fire and ice? No chance.  
As Daenerys reached the door to her chambers, she noticed Tyrion drunkenly staggering through the halls.  
"My Queen, I bid you good night. Tomorrows will be a better day." He promised.  
"Good night, Tyrion."  
Tyrion opened his mouth to speak, then looked as though he had changed his mind. He turned to leave but then suddenly turned back.  
"My Queen…" He held up a single finger. "I think he likes you."  
"Who?" Daenerys asked, feigning ignorance.  
"Snow. He just doesn't know yet."  
"Do not be ridiculous. He is barely an ally, if even that. Good night Tyrion." Daenerys said and hurried into her chambers. She pulled the doors shut and slumped onto the bed. She had spent so long allowing herself to only feel desire and attraction, that the softness she felt toward Jon Snow was entirely alien to her. It scared her. It was a matter requiring more attention than she had available. She pushed the thoughts of Jon out of her mind, but did make the intention to reciprocate the same respect he treated her with. Maybe the King of the North was worthy of being a King after all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews, they're helpful and rewarding. Really appreciate them. I hope you continue to enjoy it! PS, sorry about the format…having some technical issues…

Chapter Two: Kindred

Daenerys and Sir Davos walked slowly, Sir Davos took the first opportunity to break the silence.  
"My Queen, might I ask why you have sought to walk with me?"

"Sir Davos, the day you introduced me to Jon Snow, you said something about taking a dagger to the heart. How is it he stands before us unscathed?" Daenerys enquired, all the while keeping her eyes on Sir Davos.  
"He is not unscathed. It did something to him. Jon died being Jon." Sir Davos let out a bitter laugh, "When a man sets out to do what's right, it's as if the fates conspire against him." Sir Davos said, his dismay wore heavy on his face. "He was betrayed by the Night's Watch, stabbed through the heart by a child he saved and trained. It is nothing short of a miracle he stands here, but he does not speak of it." Sir Davos looked at Daenerys, "My Queen, I request you do not touch upon the matter with him. He would not want me to speak of it."

Daenerys nodded. She was not naïve when it came to the blows of betrayal and how merciless and thankless people could be. She pondered over what exactly happened to Jon Snow, she wondered why the Gods had seen it fit to have him live on. She understood loss and darkness, she had seen it several times and still stood here. The more she learnt about Snow, the more she realised he may well be a kindred spirit. 

"My Queen, he is a great man, some might say destiny herself intervened so he could be here today and defend us from the Whitewalkers."  
Daenerys did not mock Sir Davos' grandiose beliefs. She had learnt to have an open mind. So Jon Snow had taken a dagger to the heart for his people. He had given up his life for a noble cause, and yet he stood here, on her land. He was interesting to say the least.

Sansa stood before her army as they ate and belched. She was growing to find men repulsive, not that Littlefinger helped matters much. He had been stuck to her like an inescapable shadow since Jon's departure. He took every opportunity to mutter unpleasantries about Jon and seemed to be testing the waters with Sansa and her affections. Sansa knew what he wanted and he was not going to get it, however, she intended to take full advantage of his plotting and cunning nature.  
"You have received a letter, my Queen." Littlefinger uttered while eying Sansa like a wolf. Sansa took the letter from Littlefinger. She knew he had read it, because that's just how Littlefinger was.

She walked out of the hall and climbed the stairs. He followed close behind, always the unwanted shadow, never fully his own person. He was a parasite, he fed off others, first her mother now his muse was her.  
"Leave me." Sansa ordered before ducking into a chamber she had granted to Bran Stark. Littlefinger flinched as the door shut in his face. He stood by the door, lingering close to hear whatever was said within.

Bran Stark rested in an armchair and peered over the frosty North. It felt like lifetimes ago that he and Jon would play in the snow, and Arya would bicker with him. He felt Arya often, either in the whispers of the wind, or the howling of the wolves. He knew his sister was on her own journey, and he knew she was near the grasp of darkness. She had been traipsing along the devil's lips all too long and soon darkness would open wide and engulf her. Recently however, he sensed her more and more. He couldn't quite place why.  
Sansa felt different, she felt colder within. He could feel the same darkness snaking through Cersei and the White Walkers harbouring within his beloved sister's heart. He rooted for her. She was strong, but changed by what she had gone through. 

"Bran… What do you make of this?" Her voice asked. She was uncertain, unconvinced.  
"You wish to reason with madness." Bran said without looking at the letter Sansa waved in his face.  
"You said you could see things, what do you see now, about this?"  
Bran studied Sansa. She was as beautiful and as fierce as their mother, but she was also soft still, she had the same naïve air about her that Jon possessed. How lethal it was to place naïve hope in the wrong people.  
"Sansa, do not go to her. You will perish." Bran warned.  
Sansa looked as if she had been slapped across the face.  
"I mean it Sansa. Cersei is of no benefit to you. She will use you as a pawn by which to get to Jon and take the North."  
"If I promise her we will side with her when the time comes, she will not harm us."  
"You would take Cersei Lannister as your Queen?" Bran squashed the instinctive rage that brewed in his chest. "After all they did? To the Starks? To you… to me?"  
He shut his eyes and tilted his head back.  
"It is for fire and ice to quell the war. Not a lost Stark. That's all we are now, us Starks. Lone wolves, each on their own path."  
"Not you, you're the raven." Sansa said with a smirk, doing her best to fight back the tears her brother's words had brought to the surface.  
"Sansa, you play a dangerous game."  
"With Jon gone, it's up to me to do what's right for the North."  
"They won't follow you."  
"They will. I'll see to it."  
Sansa pulled open the door and found Littlefinger standing with a small smile on his lips.  
"I need to send a letter." Sansa said.  
He gave her a knowing smile and bowed his head. "Of course, my Queen."  
"Don't call me that." Sansa ordered. Littlefinger headed down the hall, and Sansa took a moment to address Bran once more.  
"When you see Jon, tell him I'm sorry." She mustered then marched down the hallway following Littlefinger.

The news had crushed him, a dull ache swelled in his chest. Jon barely felt the letter slip through his fingers. He caught it moments before it hit the ground, then marched down the snake path toward Tyrion, Sir Davos and Daenerys. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he came to a halt before the trio.  
"Sansa is in trouble. I need to go." He declared, not wanting to ask for permission from Daenerys, but at the same time not disrespecting her authority.  
"Who is Sansa?" Daenerys asked Tyrion, as if Jon was not there.  
"His sister. What happened?" Tyrion asked, Daenerys noted the concern etched across the brows of all three men. Jon held out the letter, Tyrion took it and read it. He felt Daenerys lean in close, in hopes of glimpsing the letter. It was the first time he had seen Daenerys be so curious about matters that did not concern her directly.  
"The North is in danger. I need to go now. I want my ship." Jon declared, Daenerys considered him then turned to Tyrion.  
"Give him his ship."  
"My Queen." Tyrion nodded and led Jon down the path. Daenerys watched them go then turned to Davos.  
"And ready our armies."  
Jon and Tyrion stared at Daenerys. "If Cersei thinks she can take the North, she ought to think again."  
"My Queen, I advise against—"  
"Your advice cost us Lady Tyrell."  
"Why are you helping me?"

Daenerys did not answer, instead the Queen walked on.  
"I appreciate your aid, but this does not mean I am bending at the knee..."  
Daenerys sighed and gave Jon a bored look.  
"You have a strange way of saying thanks." Daenerys quipped.  
"Are we allies?" Jon asked, his eyes searched hers.  
"We aren't enemies."  
"I thought I was in open rebellion."  
"And despite it, I allowed you to mine my land."  
Jon looked down for a moment, thinking through his options. He lifted his head and met Daenerys with a grateful nod.  
"Thank you." Jon said.  
"It's the first time I've seen anyone care so much for their sister." She gave him a sympathetic look that sent alarm bells through his head. He looked away.  
"I was a bastard but they took me in, raised me as their own. And Sansa has been though too much, I can't let anything else happen to her. I can't."  
It was in that moment that Daenerys felt her icy heart begin to thaw. Jon Snow was a far cry from her own vicious brother and the monsters masked as men she had come across during her time.  
Daenerys nodded and not saying another word, she headed into the fortress. Jon remained stood by the door, he feared if she was any kinder to him he might be compelled to bend at the knee. There was something about her, something alluring. She was as merciful as she was brave, as vulnerable as she was fearless.  
He had refused to aid her but still she had permitted him to mine dragon glass, and now with Sansa in trouble and the North in danger, she was the first to stand side by side with him and face any threats. Daenerys was nothing like the ones before her, but then neither was he.  
Sir Davos caught up with Jon and levelled him with a weary look.  
"It could be a trap." Sir Davos warned.  
"Then at least we have back up. We can't let our own people down. I won't."  
Sir Davos patted Jon on the shoulder. The two men had respect for each other. Jon cast a look at the hills. He watched Daenerys' men mine the mounds for dragon glass.

The White Walkers would have to wait.

Tyrion stumbled onto the ship and staggered past Jon.  
"Protecting the North is a diversion from your plans." Jon told Tyrion as the winds of the water battered them. A large shadow swept over the boat then drifted to one side. Jon looked up to see dragons circling the boat. He glanced at Tyrion.  
"You're in deep now, Snow."  
Jon glanced at the top deck, Daenerys was marvelling at the dragons as they flew overhead.  
"Why is she helping you?" Tyrion frowned.  
"I'm an ally."  
"Are you?" Tyrion scoffed, "you refused to bend the knee." Tyrion patted him on the arm, "takes balls. I respect that about you." Tyrion took a sip from his hip flask then glanced at Jon. "Mind you, if you're thinking about sleeping with her, don't. If you can help it, I mean."  
Jon frowned, he opened his mouth to protest but Tyrion continued, "She deserves more than a bastard. She's that irresistible combination of a good woman and a dangerous one. The two rarely go hand in hand."

"I wasn't thinking of—"  
"Of course not." Tyrion gave him a wink. Jon turned to the sea, he watched it lull to and fro, pushing up against the boat then backing down, not unlike the waves of emotions that seemed to be moving over him lately.  
"I mean, she would be quite the conquest."  
"Tyrion—"  
"I don't mean that with any disrespect. Just an observation."  
Tyrion handed Jon his flask, Jon took the bottle and drank from it. 

"We lost ground but gained Castlery Rock." Tyrion announced as everyone gathered by the fire. The sea was silent tonight, water sloshed around the boat and the winds were kind. Soldiers drunk and listened intently to the Queens hand. The Queen herself sat among the soldiers, a quality which was not lost on Jon Snow.  
Jon looked at the fire, its flames danced and taunted him. He held his palms open over the heat.  
"We secure the North, that will send a message to Cersei and keep us on equal par. We still have the Unsullied, the Dothraki and… well, dragons."  
The men cheered.  
Jon felt Daenerys' eyes on him, he glanced over the flames and saw her watching him silently. Her gaze was intense, he could see why Tyrion assumed everyone wanted to sleep with her. She was a gift to the eyes. He tore his eyes from hers and walked over to the east deck and peered into the still waters.  
He gripped the wooden banister of the boat and closed his eyes. He scolded himself and his restless heart. He thought of Sansa, the evil Cersei was capable of. He wasn't a man of faith, but tonight he prayed for his sister.

A warm hand brushed his, Jon suddenly grew aware of Daenerys standing beside him. Their shoulders rubbed as her left hand grazed his right, she too held the banister and peered out to sea.  
"Thank you again." Jon managed. For the life of him, he just couldn't figure her out and it tormented him endlessly. Her blond curls poured around her shoulders but she stood stoic, as cool and silent as the sea.  
"Do you see that?" Her voice wore a veil of concern. Jon looked out to see and saw what resembled hovering fire. It was only as the threat drew near did he realise it was in fact fiery catapults on three boats. The boats launched the fireballs upward into the night sky. Jon peered up at the auburn clusters of doom as they reigned down over his boat.  
"We're under attack!" Tyrion cried. The soldiers disembarked from the ship and onto smaller boats. They sailed fast, headed to the threat.  
"It's Cersei." Daenerys said as she stalked into the wooden cabin on the deck. Jon helped lower smaller boats. A wave of fireballs struck the ship. The ship rocked from side to side. Soldiers stumbled and cried out as they navigated the night. The air had an auburn glow to it despite sitting beneath a velvety night sky.  
"Tyrion! Get on the boat!" Jon cried as he lowered another smaller boat. Tyrion ducked beneath a fallen burning log and hurried to the small boat. Jon lifted him and helped him climb overboard.  
Tyrion peered up at Jon, "where is the Queen?!"  
Jon scoured the empty boat. He noticed the dragons flying overhead. They swooped toward the three assailant boats and poured flames over them, saving neither Daenerys's men or Cersei's.

Jon ducked as a burning sail fell across his ship, entrapping several of their men in a burning blanket. Their horrific cries made Jon's heart ache. He tried to pull the sail off them but it was no use, it was too big. There were too many flames. He felt the heat whip at him. He stumbled backwards, shielding himself from the flames with an arm.  
"Daenerys!" Jon roared as the burning ship began to collapse. He climbed over toppled planks and burnt men until he saw the cabin engulfed by flames. He coughed and spluttered as he batted thick smoke away. He headed for the fiery cabin.  
"Daenerys!?"  
The flames didn't bother her as she unlocked the small cage and released a baby dragon. He billowed smoke and flew from the cage and out of the cabin. She watched him go, relieved he was okay. That was when she saw Jon, a coughing, staggering mess burst into the cabin.  
"Daenerys!" He cried, "come on!" He lifted a burning log and hurled it aside. The thick smoke filled his lungs and he dropped to his knees, gasping for air. Still he staggered toward her, and she realised he thought he was saving her.  
She swung his arm over her shoulder and carried him out of the burning cabin.

Tyrion sat on his little boat and stared up at the burning ship in awe. It was simultaneously the most terrifying and stunning thing he had ever witnessed. Fire ate through to the very core of the boat, like evil ate through men.  
"Shit, Jon!? Queen!?" He couldn't reach the rope Jon had lowered when untying the boat. He may not have been able to save them, but he wouldn't leave without them.  
Tyrion's jaw hung open as he saw Daenerys hurl Jon over the edge of the boat. He landed on the small boat with a thud. He groaned. Daenerys climbed down, her clothes had gaping holes in them from the fire. Tyrion at once removed his own robe and gave it her. She took it and Tyrion set sail.  
"What happened?"  
"He tried to save me." Daenerys said with an amused smile.  
Tyrion scowled at her, "It's cruel to laugh."  
"That's why I'm smiling."  
Tyrion looked down at Jon, his face was covered with ash and cuts. He was unconscious. Daenerys took a hand and wiped some ash from Jon's cheek. She pulled her hand away, suddenly self-conscious of Tyrion.  
"Poor bastard." Tyrion said with a smile. "Congratulations. You're allies after all."  
Daenerys watched her dragons fly over their small boat.  
"We've lost even more men, Tyrion. We need to be smart about our next move."  
"Let us secure the North, maybe Jon will be generous enough to give us his men."  
Daenerys looked down at Jon, his dark curls were speckled with bits of ash and wood. As she gazed upon Jon it occurred to her that he was the first man to risk his life for her without having an ulterior motive. Most men seemed to want something in return, but Jon had acted on impulse and nearly died in the process. He had opened her up to an emotion she had kept herself closed off from since Khal. She suddenly felt overwhelmed. She needed to stop feeling this way.

She took her eyes off him and looked across the sea at the ruined boats and floating corpses. They were headed into darkness together, and she was glad to have Jon Snow by her side in times like this, but she needed to be mindful of her heart. She had kept its whims locked away for so long, she feared the restraints were starting to loosen.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Daenerys seemed to be avoiding Jon, Jon marched at the forefront of the remaining soldiers as they neared the gate to the fortress in the North. Daenerys had hung back with Tyrion, most likely they were discussing their own plans for the Iron Throne.  
But something was bothering Jon. It was the vision of Daenerys unaffected by the fire around her, she looked so calm, so… at home in the flames. Was it possible she was somehow immune to the flames? But surely that would be some kind of magic. But he had survived a dagger to the heart, so he wasn't one to object.

Was his heroic act too much for the Queen? Had he crossed a line of some kind? The thoughts gnawed at him as he did his best to focus on the task at hand, his return home.  
Ice crunched beneath his boots as he led the army into the fortress. What struck Jon immediately was the loud silence. There was nobody here, nothing. Nothing but a black raven flying overhead.  
"Sansa?" There was no answer. "I'm home!"

Daenerys and Tyrion exchanged concerned glances as Jon opened the doors of the surrounding buildings. He came back with an ashen look on his face.  
"They're gone. All of them."  
"It seems they went willingly."  
"No." Jon stubbornly declared. "Sansa would never."  
"How well do you know Sansa, Jon?"

Jon looked at Tyrion. Tyrion studied him, "what are the chances that Sansa is bringing down Cersei from within?"  
"That would be suicide." Jon said.  
"She's your sister, so she's prone to making bad choices." Tyrion quipped. Jon gave him a look.  
"What do you propose, we wait?" Jon scoffed, "And for how long? Forgive me Tyrion, but waiting is certain death."  
"I think we should wait."  
Jon looked to Daenerys. Daenerys looked from Jon to Tyrion then at the abandoned fortress.  
"If we're to wait, we might as well make ourselves at home."  
Jon bit his tongue as she walked passed him and headed into the main hall.  
"Relax Jon, take a look around… your men didn't take anything with them. They plan on returning." Jon glanced around, Tyrion was right, their personal effects were still around. "And hopefully, so does Sansa." Jon nodded. He walked up to his horse and ruffled its mane.  
"Hey girl." He brushed his nose against hers, the horse neighed gently. Jon smiled at her. "It's good to be home."

As Daenerys's army feasted in the North, Daenerys stood on the balcony of her chamber, it overlooked the snow-caked surroundings. It was beautiful but barren.  
She shuddered as a chill ran down her spine. It was no wonder Jon wore so many layers.  
"For the cold." Jon's voice said from behind her. She turned to see Jon carrying blankets and robes. He set them down on her bed and handed her a robe.  
She pulled it on.  
"Thank you."  
Jon looked at her for a moment then looked out at the snow.  
"Did I do something wrong…?" He asked gently.  
"No." Daenerys answered in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper. They were once again stood shoulder to shoulder as they gazed out at the world around them.  
"Why did you enter the burning cabin?"  
"You were inside." Jon answered. "At the time I didn't know you were fine…" He took Daenerys's wrist and gently rolled up her sleeve. His warm skin sent a tingling sensation through her body as his hand slid across her arm. He was scanning her for scars or burns.  
"We all have our gifts." She answered, giving his chest a pointed nod. Jon let go of her arm.  
"I'm sorry, I just… I don't understand."  
"What I don't understand is why any man in his right mind would burst into a room engulfed by flames when it means certain death."  
Jon looked at her.

"You have shown me more kindness in a few days than I have received in my entire life." Jon said. "You're more than an ally to me, Daenerys. You're a good person, and I try to take care of good people."  
Daenerys locked eyes with Jon but this time the King in the North did not look away, or blush. Instead he took a step closer, closing the distance between them. There was a sincerity in his eyes, a genuine softness coupled with curiosity, the same curiosity she felt toward him. The desire to know every part of him.  
She peered into his soft brown eyes as he held her icy blue gaze. His eyes drifted to her lips, it sent chills down her spine and set her nerves alight. She leaned closer to him and raised her hand. It rested on his chest and crept gingerly up to his jaw.

"My Queen." Daario's voice came in softly, but still it startled her. What was he doing here? Daenerys turned on her heel and found herself facing her ex-lover.  
"I heard you were in danger and you suffered a loss. Tyrion wouldn't let me in, but I insisted."  
Jon took a few steps back, putting distance between himself and Daenerys. Daenerys opened her mouth to speak but the words didn't come out. Daario took it upon himself to close the distance between them and cupped Daenerys's face. He planted a kiss on her forehead. Daenerys looked at Jon.  
"Excuse me, Queen." Jon bowed his head and marched out of the chamber. With each step he took away from her, Daenerys wanted to call to him, ask him to wait. She didn't understand what she was feeling. She glared at Daario.  
"You shouldn't be here."  
"I travelled across the sea for you." He looked at the direction Jon left in then turned back to Daenerys. "Did I interrupt something?" He gave her a look. Daenerys locked eyes with him. He was out of line.  
"I brought you an army and weapons. Their swords are yours as is mine."  
"Daario, you must go back and rule over –"  
"—So I did interrupt something. With him? You didn't waste much time."  
"Do not forget your place."  
Daario clenched his jaw and stalked out of the chamber. Daenerys paced, flustered, her heart raced. What the hell was that? What was happening? Why couldn't she catch her breath? The sensation of Jon's skin against hers had sent her heart pounding and she couldn't slow it down. And the way he was looking at her, with the same raw curiosity she felt about him, it was alluring. And now Daario was here… She stormed out of the chambers and bumped into Tyrion.  
"Which way did he go?" She asked.  
"Daario?"  
"Jon."  
"Oh." Tyrion raised an eyebrow and pointed to the right, "that way. Wasn't too happy though…"

Jon stood in the orchid yard surrounded by blue winter roses, their velvety petals glistened with tiny flecks of ice. He ran his hands over his face, then slammed his fist against the wall.  
He paced back and forth. She was magnetic to him, it was overwhelming. He didn't know what had come over him. He just wanted to close the distance. Jon groaned, he knew better and he should have behaved better.  
"You!" Daario's voice summoned Jon. Jon turned to see the tanned man with dark hair standing a feet from him. Daario charged at Jon and tackled him to the ground. Jon swung a fist at Daario's face and pushed him off. Jon climbed to his feet and dusted the snow off his clothes.  
"Lay a hand on my Queen again, and I'll see to it she's the last thing you ever touch." Daario seethed.

Daenerys entered the courtyard.  
"She's too good for you." Jon said to Daario, "and me. A word of warning, next time you strike me, kill me."  
Jon turned to see Daenerys standing opposite him.  
"Daario, leave us. Now."  
Daario stood in a furious huff and marched out of the courtyard. Daenerys took a step toward Jon, but he almost instantly stepped back. Something sunk inside her chest as she looked at him. How had they gone from being so intimate just moments before to so distant now?  
"Forgive me, he's just loyal guard."  
Jon scoffed, "Wow, that's some loyalty. Anyone would think you paid him in ways other than gold."  
Daenerys slapped Jon across the face. Jon looked down, his cheek stung from where she had struck him, but from the look on her face it was her who was wounded.

"When a King takes lovers, nobody cares." Daenerys scoffed. "A woman does, and all hell breaks loose."  
Jon wore a bitter smirk, a side of him Daenerys did not like. He shook his head and raised his hands in surrender.  
"My Queen, I do not need an explanation. Nor do I need comforting lies. Lay with who you will. It's not my business. I know your kind. I know what you're like."  
With that Jon began to walk away. Daenerys watched him, unable to summon any smart words or harsh comebacks.  
"You know nothing, Jon Snow." Daenerys spat the words into the icy night. Jon stopped dead in his tracks then suddenly stormed back toward her.  
"What did you just say?"  
Daenerys had struck a nerve, that much was clear but she didn't know how or why. Jon stopped inches from her and searched her eyes. She felt her heart race against her chest again as he stared into her eyes, desperate, searching.  
"I said you know nothing." Daenerys held her ground with the same stubbornness he carried on his face. Jon's expression melted from anger into dismay. He backed away from her again, as if he was suddenly aware of his own behaviour.  
"Forgive me, my Queen." He mumbled before hurrying off.  
Daenerys called after him, "Jon wait…"  
He didn't.  
As Jon emerged from the courtyard he was welcomed by his own army. They had returned, all of them. His eyes scanned the crowds.  
"Sansa? Littlefinger?"  
The soldiers shook their heads.  
Jon was wrought with disbelief.  
"She-she joined Cersei?"  
"Littlefinger was whispering in her ear the entire time, King." One of his men spoke up. Jon nodded.  
"When Sansa realised we would not serve Cersei, she sent us back halfway and carried on alone with Littlefinger."  
Jon did his best to mask his devastation. He gestured to Daenerys.  
"This is Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains. She is Queen in her own right. Bow to her."  
The army bent at the knee, and Daario glanced at Daenerys. The thought of his queen laying with another filled him with rage.  
"We will meet at dawn to plan the next move." Tyrion announced. The men murmured. A dragon flew overhead, the men all gasped. Jon smiled.  
"She has dragons."

The men cheered.  
"And the White Walkers?" A soldier asked.  
"Sir Davos is overseeing the mining of the dragon glass. For now it is important we unite with Queen Daenerys and her army, to face both threats." Jon said, then without hesitation he turned and looked at Daenerys and then bent at the knee.

The army bent at the knee again and applauded. Daenerys locked eyes with Jon, and returned the gesture by bowing. A public display of equality. They were equals and allies.  
Tyrion grinned and patted Jon on the back.  
"Atta boy."  
"If you'll excuse me." Jon said to everybody before disappearing into the fortress. Daenerys gave Tyrion a look. Tyrion rolled his eyes and approached Daario.  
"Daario, my man, let's take a walk."  
Once she was certain the soldiers were too busy to notice, Daenerys headed into the fortress in search of Jon.  
She found Jon in a training room, with large stone walls and dummies stuffed with straws. He drank from a bottle in a half buttoned shirt and black trousers. His armour was strewn across the ground.

She stood opposite him and looked down at him as he drank. He glanced up at her and offered her the bottle. She took it and placed it to one side, her expression was hard to read.  
"I don't understand you." She confessed. "And if we're going to be allies, then I need to understand you."  
Jon stood up, the fact that they were inches apart was not lost on either of them. He stepped closer to her and kept his eyes on hers.  
"I was in love once, it ripped my heart out. And I've died, and I can tell you, love hurts more than death ever can."  
Daenerys looked him in the eye, "you think I'm a stranger to love?"  
Jon shook his head. "No, but if you're familiar with it, then you know it's wiser to keep our distance. There's too much at stake. We can't afford to be caught up in the matters of the heart."  
"A hero and a coward, such a striking combination." She quipped with a sad smile.  
Jon didn't meet her gaze. Daenerys walked out of the fortress and through the frosty night. She came to a halt by Drogon, the magnificent dragon she had raised. She ran a palm along its scaly skin, feeling it rise and fall with each breath.

"My Queen." Daario's voice said gently. Daenerys smiled at him, he walked toward her and kissed her softly. Daenerys broke away from the kiss and embraced him instead, pressing her head against his chest. She didn't want to be alone. 

Jon emerged from the training rooms to see Daenerys leading Daario into the fortress. Jon walked over to Drogon and sat in the snow beside him. Drogon purred softly as he slept. Jon rested his head against the dragon's chest.  
He knew the familiar pain of love anywhere. He had fallen in love with Daenerys Targaryen, but he needed to let her go so he could focus on the reason he was here. To protect his people.  
"Oh shit. A dragon." Tyrion's voice grumbled from nearby. Jon opened his eyes and saw the Lannister stumbling toward him, also drunk.  
"She chose Daario? You poor bastard." He hiccupped and slumped to the ground. Jon scoffed a laugh.  
"She should name a dragon after you."  
"I entirely agree." Tyrion nodded. There was a long silence after that, then Tyrion added, "If you were actually a bastard, you'd have screwed her by now. I respect that and also deeply pity you for it. Jon Snow, you are an idiot my friend."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, keeps me going! Hope you enjoy where this is headed…

Chapter Four

Arya fought back a smile, she was cloaked as a guard of House Lannister. She had followed Sansa the whole way, keeping eyes on Littlefinger, that wretch. Arya was impressed her big sister had not given away Arya's presence, but as Arya had been on her own journey, she could tell Sansa had gone through her own trials and tribulations too, and to each their own. Arya respected Sansa more now than ever before, before she didn't think much at all of her pretty and naïve elder sister, but today, her sister was a fighter. 

Their plan was almost perfect, Sansa was within the Lannister walls trying to convince Cersei of the North's loyalty to her, while Littlefinger plotted to overthrow Sansa and Cersei. The Stark girls were anything but naïve. Arya would infiltrate the barracks and when Cersei least expected it, Arya would slit her throat and avenge the fallen Starks, leaving Sansa on the throne. She had watched Bran go his own way, searching for Jon. Ever since his departure, a single raven seemed to circle Arya wherever she went.

Bran's words to her were chilling, 'if you seek revenge, dig two graves.' He had warned, but Arya didn't pay much heed to Bran. She was sure he had learnt his own wisdom just like Sansa, Arya and probably Jon. Arya had found that wisdom was a fickle thing, she only suited the one who shared it.  
Arya had dug her own grave a long time ago, death was not a thing of fear to her. It was a merciful mistress, promising peace. The issue that Arya had was the giant rock she had placed upon her heart to silence its cries seemed to be shifting, and with each Stark reunion she was revived enough to long to embrace a Stark. She pushed the thoughts aside, she could not risk her mask slipping.

She was her father's daughter and she would make him proud.

Daenerys had summoned Jon to her chambers, upon entering, Jon was surprised to find Tyrion, Daario and a few soldiers in the room. He felt a tinge of dislike for Daario but ignored it. He and Daenerys were unlikely to share more time alone after their last conversation. He thought he had done the right thing, told her they should keep their emotions out of their relations. That they ought to keep their connection strictly political and nothing more… 

The problem was, Jon feared he might be in love with her, and if it wasn't love, it was at the very least, an intense lust. He was a man of discipline and had too much respect for Daenerys, she had suffered as much as, if not more, than his own sisters. He admired her and wished to honour that. But since their conversation in the training room, Daenerys behaved as if nothing had happened, as if she had not let Jon get close enough to even suggest intimacy of any kind. Like the flicking of a switch, Daenerys seemed to feel nothing for Jon. Being a seasoned politician, perhaps she was better at wearing masks than he was, Jon thought, but nonetheless, whatever flames were catching between the two had been firmly put out.

"Tyrion and I were discussing moving your men from Winterfell to Dragonstone."  
Jon frowned but listened to what she had to say.

"It's a safer base. We know it inside out, every entrance every exit, we have it covered. Winterfell makes us sitting ducks. It's too open, too harsh. An easy target."  
Tyrion gave Jon a nod, Jon returned the nod.  
"So you want to uproot my men, and what of their families?"  
"They can come too. There's plenty of room in Dragonstone. You've seen it yourself."  
Jon looked at Daenerys's counsel of Tyrion, Daario and the soldiers. He nodded.  
"Very well."  
"About Sansa… word has it, she is in talks with Cersei, pledging the allegiance of the North to House Lannister."  
This came as a blow to Jon.  
"I know Sansa, Jon. Something else is at play here."  
"I don't know, Tyrion. She seems to admire Cersei to say the least."  
Tyrion nodded, a silence hung in the air between them all. Jon locked eyes with Daenerys, her expression gave nothing away. It was only when Daario perched on the arm of her chair, that gave Jon reason to leave abruptly. A

His abrupt exit left Tyrion with a concerned look, he glanced at Daenerys and Daario.  
"Could I have a moment, my Queen?"  
Daenerys gave Daario a look. Daario stood, he did his best not to scowl at Tyrion and stalked out of the room.  
"What is it?"  
"Snow is a good man, and your highness, if you do not mind me stating the obvious, you fall in lust quite fast …" Daenerys shot him a warning look, Tyrion continued regardless. "And Jon strikes me as the kind to fall in … love."  
Daenerys scoffed, "Tyrion, I promise you he is not as naïve as you believe him to be. But I appreciate your concern. We have chosen to keep our relation strictly political."  
"A marriage would be political."  
She stood abruptly, she didn't want to hear it.  
"Tyrion, please. I do not have time to play games. If there's something you wish to say, spit it out."  
Tyrion could tell from her words that he had made a chink in her armour.  
"I don't like Daario."  
"Well, thank the Gods, you aren't sleeping with him." Daenerys shot back.  
Tyrion gave her a look. Like two stubborn toddlers each held their ground. They shared a mutual respect and an honesty that few dared to share with the Queen.  
"My Queen." Tyrion nodded then ducked out of the chamber. Daenerys shook her head and let out a small laugh. Tyrion was being ridiculous. Jon Snow was not in love with her, surely. If anything he had warned her to keep stock of her emotions which was good political advice. She would include him in future warfare discussions.  
The way she saw it, she had fun with Daario. There were no emotions, no mess, it was clean. Whatever it was, was clear. With Daario she didn't need to think of her own character, or why her heart was hammering so hard, nor did she have to fret he would reject her or think of the implications. 

Daenerys didn't have time for Jon Snow. Not romantically. And he had made it abundantly clear he had no intention of romance. 

Tyrion was pushed into the wall and hauled round until he was facing Daario.  
"Don't put ideas into her head."  
"With due respect, Daario, this is the roughest an escort has handled me and I can't say I'm enjoying it."  
Daario seethed, Tyrion fought back a smile. He loved getting under people's skin.  
"And secondly, your Queen is too smart for me or anyone to put ideas in her head."  
Daario scoffed as he stood over Tyrion.  
"Tyrion." Jon's voice interjected, Tyrion sighed a breath of relief at the sight of Snow.  
"Is everything well here?" Jon looked from Tyrion to Daario. Daario smirked at him. He patted Jon's cheek.  
"Shouldn't you be laying with the Queen? Oh wait, that's me she longs for." Jon remained silent. He shoved Jon.  
"You should be gathering your men and sending them to Dragonstone."  
"It's unwise to insult-" Tyrion tried to intercede, but Daario pushed him aside and stepped closer to Jon.

Daario chuckled, "she loves me, and love is a doing word."  
Jon gave him a dry smile, "It speaks to her character that she is able t tolerate such a… small, petty, man."

Jon patted Daario on the back and walked away. Tyrion chuckled. Daario glowered at him.  
"What? That was funny." 

The journey back to Dragonstone was long, tense and silent for the most part. Daenerys and Jon took turns to stare out at sea. Jon had no desire to watch Daario lay hands on Daenerys, so instead he took a burning torch and descended into the bottom of the bottom where a small dragon chained to a post purred and slumbered.  
He gazed at it. It was incredible. He had seen all kinds of things, but the dragons were gorgeous creatures.  
He heard her steps before he saw her. Daenerys had entered the room too. Jon gave her a respectful bow.  
"My Queen."  
The two stood in silence and watched the dragon slumber.  
"Majestic."  
Daenerys glanced at Jon, he was the first man who didn't feel threatened by the dragons or repulsed or terrified. He saw what she saw in them, they were things of beauty and power.  
"I like to watch them. It's humbling."  
Daenerys smiled. Jon looked at her, she shook her head and shrugged.  
"You watch them to feel humbled, I watch them to feel empowered."  
Jon smiled and turned back to the dragon.  
"You'd be powerful with or without them. You're a good leader."  
Daenerys glanced at him again. Jon turned to her with a confused look on his face, he wanted to say something.  
"What is it?"  
"I was drunk when I spoke with you the other night. Please forgive anything I might have said that seemed out of line."  
Daenerys studied him intently, he was so clueless to his charm.  
"Jon, you advised me to stay focussed and I appreciate that. I don't have the patience or time for love and fairytales."  
"Says the mother of dragons." He quipped. She smiled at him with a tilted head.  
"What do you say we call our partnership a friendship?"  
She extended her hand. He pulled off his glove and took her hand into his and shook it. He gripped it with a firm but tentative hold, it made her heart flutter. She dared not lock eyes with him.  
"I am honoured to be a friend."  
"As am I." She smiled. "Maybe someday you can tell me about her."  
"Ygritte …" He chuckled and shook his head. "She was a fighter, brave, impulsive."  
"My Khal was similar. He was my moon and my stars."  
As Jon watched Daenerys speak of Khal Drogo, she walked closer to the dragon and stroked it gently. He caught her eyes tearing up as she spoke, though she did her best to keep her back to him, he stepped to the side and watched. He could not look away, this was the real Daenerys. This was who she was at her core, a privilege he was honoured to witness.  
"Do you wonder if the heart can love more than once?"  
"I fear the heart is boundless." Jon confessed. "It lives and dies with each new season, each new love."  
Daenerys looked at him.  
"What do you think of Daario?"  
Jon paused now. He did not wish to offend the Queen but lying to her would be a disservice.  
"He loves your power."  
"You think he does not love me?" Daenerys asked, more curious than offended. It was something Jon noticed too. Was she cold? Or was Daario simply a time pass for her?  
"He claims to." Daenerys added.  
"My Queen, you are not seeking love. I would not think too much into it." He bowed to her then excused himself from the room. Daenerys watched him go, any other man would have taken the opportunity to tear Daario apart, but not Jon Snow.  
"My lord?"  
Jon stopped in his steps.  
"Thank you for agreeing to move your men to dragonstone."  
"We're in this together. Whatever this is." Jon promised. "Call me Jon, please."  
She turned back to her dragon and planted a small kiss on his head. She could feel Jon's eyes on her, but she didn't turn around. Instead she closed her own and enjoyed the silence down here, away from the crowd upstairs.

Jon turned away and climbed the steps. As he burst out into the cool night air, he felt like he could breathe again. He desired her, and it was proving difficult to ignore. He worried she could tell, but if she could, she had not given anything away. 

"Jon!" Tyrion beckoned him from amidst a group of women Jon assumed were pretty but right now he couldn't care less. He had Daenerys's eyes etched into his mind, the feeling of her soft hand in his played over and over through his head.  
"Join me. A drink for Jon!" Tyrion ordered with gumption. A few women hurried to the bottles of ale and huddled around Jon, one pulled him by the arm as the other caressed his cheek. Jon took the bottle and batted the women away.  
"I am flattered, but not tonight." He raised his bottle to Tyrion then took a swig. Tyrion cast a pointed look at Daenerys who had emerged from the staircase. She fought back a small smile. Her smile faded as she felt Daario take her hand.  
"Shall we go to your chamber?"  
"Not tonight." Daenerys said, keeping her eyes on Jon as he moved through the crowd and sat with some of his soldiers. The men laughed and spoke at the fire, the auburn flames cast Jon's face in a warm glow.  
As if he could somehow feel her watching, Jon's eyes flicked across the fire and locked with hers.  
"Mind if I join you?"  
Jon bowed his head.  
"My Queen!" The men bowed too. She sat among them and listened to their stories, and found herself laughing with them. A soldier handed her a bottle of ale, Daenerys took the bottle and took a swig. They cheered.  
"My Queen, tell us about the dragons."  
"Dragons!" The men started to chant, Jon's grin was so contagious, Daenerys felt it creep across her own lips as she told them tales of her dragons.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks for the reviews you guys! Hope you enjoy this one…

Chapter Five

Sir Davos had made great progress with the mining. Jon had spent the last few days out here in the caves. It served the purpose of giving him time to think about his next move as well as giving him time to cherish their findings. His gloved hand traced an ancient drawing on the wall.  
"The Queen is here." Sir Davos called to Jon from beyond the cave. Jon stepped out of the small cave and walked through the tunnels. He headed for the bright light pouring in at the top of a few rocks and climbed out.  
He bowed to Daenerys who stood with her advisor, Missandai a few feet up from the caves.  
"There is something I'd like to show you." He said, Missandai muttered something to Daenerys, a warning of wandering down into a dark cave with a Lord of the North most probably. Jon did not take offence. She was only doing her job.  
Daenerys looked down at Jon and stepped forward, lowering herself into the cavern below. Jon held out a gloved hand to offer support. Daenerys considered his hand, climbing down was no hard task but she slid her hand into his anyway.

He guided her down into the cave with a steady hand then released his hold on her when they were both in the tunnel.  
"This way." Jon said. Daenerys walked with him, he walked slightly faster than her, he seemed like an excited child attempting to mask his own excitement. He led her into a smaller cave which could only fit the two of them. The two stood in close proximity while Daenerys looked at the drawings painted on the cave wall. She ran her fingertips along the crooked rock face of the walls and over the smooth paint.

"There's history here. It talks about the first dragon… my friend Sam would be able to translate it better than I. But it tells of how the humans took care of the dragons and the dragons in turn served them."  
Daenerys marvelled at the paintings, they must have been at least a few hundred years old. She watched Jon as he animatedly explained the history of the dragons and the first sighting of the White walker. It was then that Daenerys realised he was not preaching, he was simply passionate about the world around them.

"You have a keen interest in the past." Daenerys said.  
"I do. I think people before us did magnificent things, and I hope to do the same."  
"What do the White Walkers want?"  
"Same as Cersei, and yourself. They want the kingdoms."  
Daenerys shifted, she did not lik being compared to Cersei or these mystical White walkers Jon sought to defeat. She felt his arm rub hers, she glanced down at his gloved hand. He had not noticed it brushing against her fingers.  
He followed her gaze down to his gloved hand and quickly moved it away. He cleared his throat and headed for the small parting in the cave.  
"We should get back."

Daenerys nodded, and followed him out of the cave.  
"Thank you for showing me." She said courteously. As he hurried back through the tunnel, she knew his rush to get back meant one thing and one thing only, he had felt the spark between them too.

She glanced at the cave walls along the tunnel. She appreciated the way Jon valued history that was hers, the way he spoke about it, it helped her imagine what he was like before he saw the things he had. She smiled at the idea of a younger and more naïve Jon.

Jon climbed out of the cave and was met with Daario and Missandai. Jon held out his hand to Daenerys, as did Daario. Daenerys gripped Jon's hand firmly and he pulled her up faster than she anticipated. She lingered close to him as she steadied herself. The pair stood with their noses inches from each other's, it was only when Missandai spoke that the reverie was broken.  
"You have another visitor, my Queen."

Littlefinger slipped out of his chamber and headed down the hallway. He had received Sansa's message to meet him in secret by the treasury and his anticipation was unbearable. He hoped she had seen the light and was ready to take things further with him. Her plan to get Cersei onside by pledging the North's allegiance to her was a genius move. 

Cersei had welcomed Sansa's offer either out of sentimentality at Sansa's history with Joffery or she knew it was wise to accept alliances, as alliances meant more soldiers and territory. He reached the large door surrounded by the Lannister banner and flags. The door parted slightly. Littlefinger glanced inside, perhaps Sansa was waiting within… His cheeks burned red, he desired every part of her and he had longed for this moment for many nights. He stepped into the treasury and Arya slammed the door shut behind him, locking him in.  
"Sound the alarm! A thief in the castle!" She cried, alerting the armed guards who came rushing down the hall. Arya ducked into the shadows with a small smile on her lips. 

Sansa smiled upon hearing the shouts and cries of soldiers and Littlefinger. A petty end for a petty man, she thought relieved. She stepped out of her chamber in time to see Cersei followed by Jaimie emerging from their own.  
"The guards have caught a thief." Sansa informed Cersei. Cersei stalked down the lavish hallway barely acknowledging Sansa. Jaimie however was more polite, as he buttoned up his shirt he gave Sansa a nod, she returned it.  
As she watched them go right she took a left at the end of the hallway and caught the flicker of a shadow passing by a doorway. Arya.  
She hurried down the steps, following the direction in which the shadow shrunk. She sped up, aware that Littlefinger would object and make accusations. She only had a few minutes with her sister before Cersei would summon her.  
Sansa entered the cool wine cellar and eyed the bottles. A shadow fluttered beyond the final rack. Sansa approached it. "Arya?"  
Saying her sister's name aloud filled her with memories of a time long gone, a time where they would bicker and fight over the smallest of matters.  
"Sansa!" Arya said with a look of excitement, she embraced Sansa, catching both girls off guard. Arya pulled away suddenly.  
"It's happening."  
"You'll have to teach me to swap faces like you do, someday."  
Arya's smile flattened, she looked at her sister. "I hope to never teach you."  
Sansa cupped her little sister's fac. "You did it, you trapped Littlefinger."  
"We need to remain calm." Sansa said, before exhaling deeply, she shook her hands to rid herself of the nerves. She had thought this through a thousand times, but experiencing it was completely different to imagining it.  
"This is really happening." She said.  
"Find the Stark!" A soldier's voice cried from upstairs. Sansa and Arya exchanged a look.  
"I'm counting on you." Sansa told her sister before rushing up the stairwell. The soldiers surrounded Sansa, who clutched at her cloak as she eyed them.  
"The Queen has summoned you, Lady Stark."  
Sansa walked swiftly in the direction of the main hall. She had witnessed many monstrosities in the main hall before, ones she would not easily forget.  
The Lannister home had become more and more like her own, given the history she had reluctantly shared with it. She too, like Arya, Jon and others, had given more to the seven kingdoms than she had wished. She had lost much, but learnt more. She hoped the wisdom she held now would carry her through to a safe and better outcome for all the people throughout the kingdom.  
There would be no more Sansa Starks, and no more examples would be made of women. She had had enough. And it all began here, with her testimony against Littlefinger.  
The main hall was vast, lined with pillars, soldiers and a rowdy crowd. Cersei sat on the iron throne and looked disdainfully at Littlefinger. Jaimie stood obediently beside her.  
Littlefinger was cuffed and held at knifepoint by a group of soldiers. He gave Sansa a pleading look as she approached the iron throne. Sansa stopped before Cersei and bowed-  
"No need to bow, sweet Sansa." Cersei said with narrowed eyes and all the sly of a calculating snake. It made Sansa recoil. This was who she had come to admire? Sansa looked at Cersei.  
"The reason behind my summoning, my Queen?"  
"This putrid man claims you were to meet with him by the treasury. That he mistakenly entered our vault. Can you attest?"  
Sansa looked at Littlefinger, her verdict would be the end of him, that much she knew.  
"To have relations with the man obsessed with my own mother, my Queen, is even beyond a Stark."  
Cersei wore a cruel smile as she eyed Littlefinger.  
"Sansa!" He cried, the betrayal etched upon his face was one he was most deserving of. Sansa hoped he felt every single ache and break as his heart broke in his chest.  
"I have sworn allegiance of the North to you, my Queen. I think that speaks more for where I stand than anything else. Thieves should be shown no mercy."  
The anguish on Littlefinger's face suited him better than the creepy curiosity he usually strolled around with. 

"To the dungeons." Cersei declared. The soldiers dragged him away.  
"My Queen, please!" He cried out to no avail. Cersei eyed Sansa with a shrewd look.  
"Leave us." The room was vacated by the crowd and the soldiers. Cersei turned to Jaimie.  
"And you."  
Disgruntled but always dutiful, Jaimie nodded and bowed out of the room leaving the two women alone.  
"Come here." Cersei instructed. Sansa strolled toward her and bowed before her.  
"No need to bow. Come closer."  
Sansa stopped inches from Cersei.  
"If you're lying about the loyalty of the North, I'll have you beheaded, just like your father." She promised in a hoarse whisper. Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat. She did her best to remain poised, and held Cersei's probing look with her own steel blue eyes.

Jon had found himself summoned yet again to Daenerys's chambers. He prepared himself for another political meeting. Jon had noted Daario seemed to have left Dragonstone at some point, and though he was curious as to why, he scolded himself. It was not his place or his business.  
As Jon rounded the grey steps at Dragonstone, he found himself face to face with Jorah in the stairwell.  
"Sir Jorah." Jon greeted him. Though Jon and Jorah had exchanged few words, Jon had witnessed how dutiful Jorah was to the Queen, and that was something he could respect. Jorah eyed Jon curiously.  
"The queen's chambers are this way." Jorah said, as though he assumed Jon didn't know, but Jon knew Jorah was smarter than that. Jorah was fishing.  
"I know."  
"Our Queen has a good heart." Jorah stated, Jon gave him a nod.  
"I know." Jon smiled curtly and ascended the steps. Jorah watched Jon Snow, King in the North disappear round the corner. He had seen how Daenerys softened around Jon, though Jon was oblivious. Jorah had and would always worry for Daenerys. Jon had given him no cause for suspicion, but the way Daenerys objected to Jon's departure to bring back a white walker to convince Cersei had spoken for itself. Jorah would not deny he felt some jealousy, but his jealousy would not overpower the duty he had to his queen. She had made him a man worth saving.

"Your Grace." Jon's voice entered Daenerys' chamber. She stood on a balcony and gazed out at Dragonstone. The sea was beautiful.  
"Thank you for coming." Daenerys said, not taking her eyes off the ocean in the horizon. Jon joined her on the balcony and peered out at Dragonstone. From here, he could see the rolling hills, and excavations her men had undertaken to mine dragon glass; a favour he would not soon forget.  
"You passed Jorah in the stairwell?" Daenerys asked. Jon nodded. Though Jon had not objected with his words, she could read him like an open book. She appreciated his respect for her, and had grown to feel turned off by Daario. Something about Snow made her heart pound, her breath catch in her throat and she found her dead heart was growing more alive with each passing day. She had almost forgotten what it meant to feel things, but since the King in the North had entered her life, things had been different.

Jon glanced at her. He wondered whether she asked in order to ensure they were alone with no spies, or to gauge his reaction. Did she want him to be jealous. He could be, but he was a better man than that and he suspected she was a far better woman than that.

"So we are alone." She said, her eyes drifted to the velvety sky which looked like a lavish blanket with stars sprinkled across its surface.  
"How can I be of service?" Jon asked. Daenerys cast him a sideways glance. "Daario was relocated to the East." Daenerys explained, "Sir Jorah is a loyal comrade."  
Jon remained silent. She glanced at him now, her pride giving way to her yearning for a response of some kind, perhaps even a confirmation that he understood she was not taking lovers. Not that it ought to bother her, but it did.  
Jon gave nothing away.  
"…When you volunteered yourself to bring back a white walker so we could convince Cersei…." She trailed off, unsure whether she should bring up the events of the last few weeks. But Daenerys had never been one to shy away from the truth.

"I succeeded." Jon answered.  
"Your succeeding did not lessen my concern." She stated, with her hands on the balcony and her eyes on the horizon. He glanced at her, he noted the tenderness which lurking beyond her stern eyes. The last time he had seen it was when he had returned with the white walker. As though she almost forgot their protocol, she had hugged him swiftly then pulled away. As his comrades hugged him, he kept his eyes on her, unable to forget the look in her eyes, and as he stood beside her now, she wore the same look. It drew something deep within him to move closer to her. The same whisper in his head urging him to close the distance between them, the allure of her vulnerability and strength entwined with her beauty threatened to draw him in.

"Your Grace, if you'll excuse me, I think I should leave." Jon said after a moment. As he awaited her reply, he placed a hand on the balcony.  
"I don't." She confessed, and turned to look him in the eye. There was that look again, the kind of thing that reduced mighty men to awestruck romantics. Her eyes searched his and for the life of him, Jon couldn't bring himself to look away. She slipped her hand over his.  
The beautiful Queen with lips of soft pink and stubborn eyes, revealed a tenderness toward Jon that struck him clean in the chest, where the blade had entered his heart and warmed it. He suddenly grew all too aware of his heart, with each beat he stepped closer to Daenerys.  
Jon knew he had not bent the knee for her but right then, in that moment, he was willing to do anything for her. He had felt many things throughout his life, but he had not felt this way. His desire overpowered his logic, he wanted her. All of her. And somewhere between locking eyes with her and Daenerys taking his hand, Jon stepped forward and kissed her firmly, letting his desire take over for a fleeting moment.  
Daenerys kissed him back, cupping his face and pulling him toward her. Jon pulled out of the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers, with his eyes shut, he caught his breath. He already missed her soft lips locking with his. He pulled away and peered down at her. He placed a gentle hand beneath her chin and tilted her breathless face upwards to meet his gaze. Her eyes flickered, reflecting the burning torches on the walls, but they also flickered with another thing, a thing Jon Snow was unsure he could handle.

She wasn't simply something to be had, she was his Queen. In that moment, he felt complete. He closed the distance between their lips, but this time met her with a tentative kiss, delicate and caring. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer toward her until he was pressed up against her. She kissed him back sensually, slowly. Embracing the feeling of him against her.

He lifted her up and pushed her against the balcony as she cupped his face and continued to kiss him, caressing his cheek then his jaw. Her hands slid down his chest and she pushed him away long enough for the pair to exchange a look wrought with awe. She took him by the hand and led him toward her bed, before they made it to the bed, Jon turned her back to him and kissed her hungrily now, pushing her up against the wall as he did so.

A thrill of excitement moved through her, and anticipation coursed through her veins. Over the brutal years she had faced, desire had become a stranger, but as Jon's lips drifted down her neck and his hands slipped her gown off her shoulders, she succumbed to him. His lips moved downwards, his warm skin grazing her own as her hands reached beneath his shirt. The heat was palpable.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

As Sansa and Arya returned to Winterfell, Arya did not keep her disdain a secret.  
"You should have let me slit her throat when I had the chance."  
"Arya, whatever you may think you are and whatever invincibility that buys you, you are still my little sister. I couldn't risk it. A better opportunity will present itself. We should be relieved she didn't send a mole after us. Can you imagine her fury when she learns of the North's betrayal?"  
"Someone is here." Arya said, tense.  
"Lady Stark, I come in peace." The brown haired man said. He had a giant mallet slung over one arm, and did not as much flinch in the face of the bitter chill that encompassed Winterfell.  
"My name is Gendry, I have fought side by side with your brother."  
Something within Arya lurched at the thought of her brother.  
"You know Jon?"  
Gendry nodded. The first thing Sansa noticed about him were his kind eyes. It had been a long time since she had seen a decent man, she almost didn't trust him.

"Yes. I have been sent from Dragonstone to inform you both of their plans."  
"Their?"  
"Queen Daenerys and King Jon, my Lady."  
Sansa felt a pang of dismay fill her heart. Jon had not even consulted her. She worried, not because of his integrity but due to the lack of integrity in others.  
"He has convinced the Queen of threat beyond the wall."  
"And you are, what? Protection?" Arya asked with a bemused smile as she eyed the weapon he carried over his shoulder. Gendry gave Arya a smile.  
"Not at all. Jon said he hopes you made good use of the needle."  
Arya glanced at Sansa, the two exchanged a look of agreement. Gendry was to be trusted.

Daenerys walked through the hall and headed for the meeting room. They were to leave to meet with Cersei by sunset. As her mind relived the night before, adrenaline coursed through her veins. She remembered everything. What had she done? What was she going to do? She had assumed upon waking she would find herself over him, as with most of her lovers, but not this wasn't the case. Nor was their night together anything like other conquests she had experienced. She could still feel his warmth against her skin, her mind had etched the image of him into her heart. His scars, his smile, his kisses. All of him.  
She realised that it was not desire that had betrayed her, it was her own heart. Even now, it pounded in her chest at the mere thought of him. She had awoken to find herself alone tucked beneath a sheet. She presumed he had covered her with it before leaving her there.

She had never felt nervous before, she did her best to ignore the hundreds of thoughts racing through her mind. Was he regretting it? He couldn't, not if he felt how she did even for a moment. Then what could be the reason for such an abrupt departure from her chambers.

Sir Davos stared at Jon. Jon sat on the boulder, his head in his hands.  
"You said there was no time for that!" He exclaimed. Jon gave Davos a tormented look.  
"Gods above, Jon…" Davos sighed as he studied the conflicted King. Jon looked out at the sea. She glistened and lured him in, like Daenerys's eyes had the night before. The truth of it was, he had never imagined being able to feel this way, let alone think it was possible to feel this way at all, about anyone. But Daenerys was good.  
"How many dragonglass blades do we have?" Jon asked.  
"This is really happening, you and the Queen?"  
"It's happened." Jon answered, with no apology, or pride. It was the simple truth.  
Jon couldn't find the words to clothe his thoughts, he feared if he tried to explain them they would pour out in a messy heap and make no sense. He could still feel her loose curls pouring over him, and the way her soft skin felt as it pressed against his scarred torso.

She was beautiful in every way to him. When he was near her, he felt… complete. Like he fitted by her side, as though the missing part of him wasn't his lineage or his family, but all along it had really been about finding her.

"Being barren has its perks after all. She's free to fu—"  
"Don't, Davos. It's not what you think. It was me. I kissed her…and the rest of it."  
Sir Davos studied Jon. Jon was a private man, an honourable one. He worried for King Jon's naivety. Daenerys was smart and when it suited her, she was merciless. She could chew up a man like Jon and spit him out before breakfast if the mood took her.

"Good night, my Queen?" Tyrion's voice quipped. He was sat on a step nursing a bottle of wine. She sat beside him, she considered lying to him but knew there was no point. She had been so unguarded with Jon, so at ease in his arms, they had felt like home. A thing she had all but forgotten she lost, Jon had bought it back to her. She feared she loved him with a love beyond the capabilities of this world. A deeper love, something eternal and transcendent.  
"You're afraid." Tyrion said after noticing Daenerys's conflicted expression. Daenerys looked at him. She wasn't afraid, she was terrified.  
"It's important to enjoy good things, they're only given to us for a short time. Then they're ripped away…" Tyrion took a long swig from the bottle. Daenerys frowned.  
"Thanks Tyrion." She stood and descended the stairs.  
"I sent Viserion as back up, for Jorah and the others as they gather resources near the wall. In case anything happens out there."  
"Thank you."  
Tyrion narrowed his eyes at her.  
"Daenerys, there is too much at stake… please be careful." Tyrion advised. She gave him a nod.

Daenerys passed Sir Davos on her way to the caves. He gave her a nod and hurried away from the caves. Her men were taking a rest from the mining, and she was certain she would find Jon here.  
As she stepped into a smaller cave, lit by two burning torches mounted on the walls, she saw him. Jon was sat on a boulder, his face the very image of torment. His brown eyes found her and he leapt to his feet, betraying his otherwise confident demeanour. Daenerys bit back a smile. She couldn't put her finger on it, but seeing him so flustered filled her with relief.  
"Dany…" He mustered in a voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat and repeated her name, "Daenerys." He looked down unable to meet her gaze for more than a moment.  
She looked at the cave.  
"So much progress."  
"Forgive me for leaving while you slept. I didn't want to wake you." His expression softened, "you looked so peaceful."  
"I meant with the mining."  
Jon looked at the cave walls as if he suddenly realised where he was.  
"Ah, yes. We've got a lot of dragon glass."  
"Enough to fight a war?"  
Jon and Daenerys locked eyes. She didn't move from where she stood. She had gone through the effort of finding him because she wanted some kind of closure regarding the night before. A confirmation of some kind, that it really did happen and it truly had felt as it did. As she laid eyes on him, she found it hard to block out the memories of the night before.  
"We will convince Cersei to work with us to stop the white walkers." Daenerys said. Jon walked up to her. He took her hand and like a child picking up a flower and examining it, then he slipped his fingers through hers. Her eyes flicked to his. She wondered if he was aware of the child-like innocence of his love. She hadn't seen a man with such sincerity during her entire life. He was in many ways, more unguarded than she was with his heart, and it was a quality that only made him more endearing to her.  
"Daenerys," he said in a barely audible voice. Her skin felt electric against his as he his gentle grip grew firm. Decisive.

"I left early to make sure we mined enough dragon glass before our departure."  
Daenerys didn't acknowledge his explanation. It was all too cringe-inducing for her. Her cheeks reddened as they stood close.  
"We leave soon. Things will be different -"  
He planted a kiss on her forehead, and her voice caught in her throat.  
"This won't." He promised with an earnestness that destroyed the walls within her. His brown eyes melted into her icy gaze but did not waiver. It was as if simply being near her filled him with a courage he often kept hidden. She kissed him. The kiss was tender, but the hunger was still there, the constant aching for it to be more than just a fleeting kiss. He pulled her into his arms, and she broke away from the kiss then buried her face in his chest. Her King in the North.

Littlefinger awaited in the dungeon. He was starving, hours had passed since he had received any food, or drink. More had passed since he had seen any light. He was in complete darkness. Now and then a rat would scuttle past.  
An auburn glow appeared in the corner of his vision, somewhere beyond the prison bars. It grew and danced along the walls, as if somebody had ignited the dark and left it to burn. A hand placed a candle beyond his cell and a white ball was tossed into the cell. It floated to the ground and made no sound as it landed. Littlefinger knew paper when he saw it. He grabbed the piece of paper and sat beside the candlelight and pulled it open.  
The words he read spread a wicked smile across his face. This was far from over.  
"Where did you get this?" Littlefinger asked.  
The darkness did not respond.


End file.
